


All These Things I've Done (and Those I've Yet to Do)

by queen_WentRed



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, M/M, Modern AU, Somebody get Gaara some friends, beware of evil food stuff, imma try to not make this suck, no promises, some therapy too, typical sand sibling shenanigans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:13:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28331424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queen_WentRed/pseuds/queen_WentRed
Summary: The mission was simple.Collect as much information on the Konoha Hero Association as possible without arousing suspicion. Do this through any means necessary. It should have been easy enough.Unfortunately, in a world filled with super-humans and psychos, nothing goes to plan, especially with Gaara involved.But the real question is, how can a simple smile shine brighter than the sun?
Relationships: Gaara/Rock Lee, Hatake Kakashi/Maito Gai | Might Guy, Hyuuga Neji/Tenten, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	All These Things I've Done (and Those I've Yet to Do)

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings and salutations! 
> 
> I will warn you now I am not the most experienced writer, so I apologize if the pacing is a bit wonky, or the dialogue to stiff. But I had this superhero au in my head for a bit now and it wouldn't let go so here we are! 
> 
> I have a bit of the story planned out, but nothing currently written other than this, so I don't have a definitive date for the next chapter.(and probably won't for any chapter lets be honest)   
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy my word vomit!

The first time he killed someone, he was barely even two minutes old. 

The first time he killed someone and  _ cared _ , he was six. 

And after those firsts it just got easier and easier, killing,  _ murdering _ . Because let’s be honest. His succeeding victims had a better chance jumping off a cliff than they did with Gaara Sabaku,  _ Gaara of the Desert _ .

It became such a common occurrence, killing, that before long it became almost fun for him. Killing for Gaara became like tag, or hopscotch, a playground game.

But this was a special game,  _ his  _ game. A game only  _ he  _ could play, and the other children weren’t allowed to play it, like how he was banned from  _ their _ games.

Killing was the only time he felt anything close to happiness, or maybe it was just the feeling of validation it gave him. For each life he took, he sent a message to the world -to himself. ‘ _ Hey, I may be a monster, but I’m still better than them, I’m still alive.’ _ ’ 

Gaara lived for himself, and only for himself. 

But he was still just a puppet, like the ones his brother toyed around with, but his father was the one pulling the strings. 

\---

Their father’s office was cold and dark, and even without him being in it the room oozed his oppressive will. 

Beside him his siblings nervously shifted, an activity that would no doubt earn them a firm lecture should their father see it. But lecturing his siblings meant less hateful remarks towards him, so Gaara said nothing.

Behind them, the rusting metal door squeaked, and in stepped their father -assistant in tow.

Instantly, his siblings stopped their fidgeting, backs straightening to attention in a way even a soldier would be jealous of. 

Their father slowly made his way around the room, studying them with a critical eye. The man seemed in no rush to make it to his desk, instead he looked to  _ enjoy _ the fear coming off his children in waves, drinking it up like water.

Finally, after what felt like a millennia, their father took a seat at his desk, his expensive leather chair creaking as he sat. 

Face expressionless, as was its default, their father pushed three plain beige folders towards them. 

“Look those over after our briefing, they contain the fine details of your next assignment, which we will be discussing.” When Rasa Sabaku spoke, it was with as little emotion as he showed on his face, yet his words always sank into his audience like a vice.

The sibling grabbed the folder with their name, and Temari immediately started to skim it’s contents.

Not seeming to care, their father continued on, pressing his hands together. 

“Now, let us begin..”

  
  
  


\---

  
  


The hostages whimpered as sand oscillated at their feet, poised and hissing like a rattlesnake. 

If Gaara noticed their distress or the misbehavior of his sand, he didn’t care. Truthfully, he didn’t care about anything him or his siblings were doing currently. Gaara didn’t complain only because at least here he had something to do, which was more than he could say about his father’s complex in Suna.

His sister Temari, code-name Hoshi, shifted her gaze from Gaar to the hostages and back. 

Gaara didn’t even blink, his face could have been etched in stone.

After a beat, his sister bit her tongue and looked away, turning her attention instead to Gaara’s other sibling Kankuro. “Hey, Puppet-Master! How much longer is this going to take!” 

He couldn’t see his brother, but his unrestrained voice carried easily from the hallway that led towards the bank’s vault. “Eh.. I don’t know, any time now. But in other news, I almost got this vault open!” He heard a mechanical clash, followed by a colorful array of curses. “N-never mind that last part! It’ll take a little longer than I thought on the vault..”

Temari huffed, but was used to the setbacks and hiccups that accompanied the middle child. It was the youngest that currently had her anxious.

The ‘child’ in question was restless, and his sand reflected that. They had chosen this bank because it was in a highly trafficked part of Konoha, and should have been swarming with hero patrolls. 

But it had already been close to 20 minutes and there was no sign of a hero or even the regular police force. 

How was Gaara supposed to just, _sit_ _here_? Doing _nothing_! When there were people _right_ _here_ , whose blood would surely give him that rush of distorted pleasure he craved.

God help whatever hero that was foolish enough to set him off- their death would be neither quick, nor painless.

But what did one expect, from the villain Sukaku, from Gaara of the Desert? 

Suddenly, there was a bang, a bending of metal and a crumbling of bricks, and all heads turned to gape at the new arrivals.

In the -now larger- doorway, stood three unique figures. 

In the center stood a tall and robust man, with a shiny black bowl cut and eyebrows so thick and rectangular they were almost comical. What made him look the most like a fool, however, was the obnoxious green jumpsuit and neon-orange leg warmers he wore proudly.

To his sides stood a man and a woman who, by comparison looked remarkably normal. 

The woman had brown eyes and hair that was tied into two identical buns atop her head, and wore a simple white shirt with red pants. In her hands were multiple kunai. 

The man had dark brown hair that was almost black, and his hair fell long and straight down his back. He also wore a simple white shirt, but had black shorts instead. His most striking feature were his eyes, irises so pale that they were almost indistinguishable from the sclera, and he seemed to lack pupils.

All together, they made for an interesting group. But to Gaara and Temari, what had them confused was the obvious lack of face covering or identity concealer of any kind. Every other hero or villain they had ever met always hid their identities. So if not heroes, who were these people? 

As it turns out, they didn’t have to wait long for an answer. 

“Greetings evil doers!” The man with the bowl cut announced, “I am Rock Lee, and these are my companions Neji Hyuga and Tenten! We are heroes from Konoha’s hero association, and are here to put an end to your villainous actions and make sure you pay for your crimes!” 

By this point, Kankuro had joined his siblings, and he and Temari shared a look that seemed to say, ‘ _ Is this guy for real? _ ’ 

Gaara was, as usual, not privy to the wordless communication his siblings shared. Instead, he kept his gaze on the apparent heroes, unimpressed but still weary. 

Seemingly oblivious to the underwhelmed feelings of the ‘evil doers’, the bowl cut boy barreled on with his impromptu speech. “And you shall especially pay for interrupting the birthday celebration of our dear friend Naruto!” 

Behind him, Gaara heard his brother cover up his laughter with a scoff. 

“Look dude, you’re telling me you guys are  _ actually  _ heroes? Sure buddy.”

The women, Tenten Rock Lee had called her, smirked, and seemed all too used to this reaction. “Why don’t you critique us  _ after _ we kick your butts?”

For Gaara, that was all the go ahead he needed. Assessing the hero force of Konoha was the mission after all, but he would have fought them regardless -blood was blood. 

With only the faintest twitch of his fingers, the sand scattered around the room shot like a bullet towards the dynamic trio. Gaara’s siblings didn’t even bother moving, fully expecting them to be crushed in the sand's iron grip. 

But when the sand reached its target it came up empty. Suddenly, Gaara’s sand came up like a shell behind him, protecting him from an attack he hadn’t even known was coming. He turned his head to look for his assailant, and was shocked to see the man with the bowl cut giving him a determined grin, foot still resting where it was stopped by the sand. 

Gaara quickly looked for the man’s companions, and found the man with strange eyes facing his brother and crow, and the woman squared off with Temari. 

His hairless brows knit together, just who  _ were _ these people? 

Bowl cut jumped back, but his eyes stayed trained on Gaara, and fell into a well-practiced ready stance. 

He smiled again, and Gaara was baffled by the warmth -the joy in it. “I am no stranger to people’s reactions to my appearance and actions, so I prefer to let my skills do the convincing for me!” He tilted his head slightly, and his expression looked down right  _ giddy _ . “Still, I cannot say I am looking forward to this battle! Your abilities are very unique, and I wonder how I will fare against them!” 

Gaara wasn’t quite sure how to respond to all  _ that _ . So he did what he always did when he occasionally faced a new enemy, he studied it, and then lashed out in the way he felt would do the most damage.

But his foe was not as cautious, and the slight tensing of muscles was all the warning Gaara received before the man stuck at him again and  _ again _ , the sand blocking it each time. Despite this, bowl cut kept at it, seemingly looking for something. 

Gauging his strength, Gaara realized, testing the waters. 

But his opponent was gradually picking up speed, and Gaara had to rely entirely on his sand’s reaction, unable to predict the next attack himself. 

What was this hero’’s power? Was it speed? That would have to be it, Gaara had seen no other person move as fast as this man for as long as he had. It was almost to the point where his sand couldn’t keep up, an alien experience for the young villain. 

But the bowl cut hero kept on kicking and punching, his assault all but relentless. And that damn  _ grin _ ! It had never once left his face. 

“This is most exciting!” He spoke in-between kicks. “But I cannot help but feel that you are not truly trying in this clash of youths!” 

Gaara’s eyes narrowed, no one had ever  _ dared _ complain about him going easy on them. In fact, only a rare few even lived long enough to say anything at all.

Just who  _ were _ these people!

Now thoroughly agitated, and growing bored of this mindless back and forth, Gaara finally went on the offensive. 

His sand moved like a pack of bloodthirsty wolves, striking at his foe from multiple angles, aiming for anything vital. 

Even so, nothing connected in a way that mattered. Each tendril of sand was broken by a masterfully aimed punch or kick, or instead evaded by a graceful roll or tuck. He could have been a dancer for all the coordination he possessed. 

Somewhere in the far reaches of his mind, Gaara knew his siblings were having the same difficulty with their opponents, but they might as well have not existed. For Gaara, he was on a stage, and the bowl cu-  _ no.  _ Rock Lee. He was performing on a stage, and  _ Rock Lee  _ was the only other person in the spotlight. 

Gaara’s attacks increased in ferocity, becoming more erratic as his grip on reality kept slipping. He was a horse with blinders, and Rock Lee was the target in his sights. 

But the comically dressed hero rose to match him, and for the first time in his life, Gaara was locked in a stalemate, either side unable to gain any ground. 

It drove him  _ mad _ . 

Then it happened, a slight misstep from his opponent, a brief flinch of pain. 

Gaara saw his chance,  _ and he  _ **_took it_ ** **.**

One moment the fight was even, the next? Rock Lee was on the ground, limbs trapped in chains of sand, the villain Sukaku above him, poised like a snake ready to strike. 

The show was over, Gaara of the Desert, Sukaku, had won. He raised his hand, ready to bury  _ Rock Lee _ in sand, to crush and pound the hero until there was nothing left but blood soaked sand. 

Then a punch was thrown his way, and blocked by the sand. 

Gaara stepped back and snapped his gaze towards the attack,  **_now what_ ** . 

The new adversary was a man who could have been a carbon copy of Rock Lee, down to the tacky green jumpsuit and the stupid legwarmers. 

This new man, also a hero Gaara assumed, stood between him and Rock Lee. 

But suddenly, Gaara finally noticed other things too, how his siblings were calling his name -or rather his codename, Shukaku. And he noticed how it looked like his siblings didn’t find much success in their brawls either, and were obviously trying to run. 

In all, it was clear that things weren’t going in their favor. So with one last glare towards Rock Lee, who was still disoriented on the ground, he closed his eyes and willed the sand around him and his siblings. 

With their temporary apartment pictured in his head, he and his siblings were whisked away, leaving scared citizens and shocked heroes behind. 

\---

“ _ God _ that was a mess!” Kankuro was sprawled on the tacky couch, an ice pack held over his left eye. “When pops wanted us to gather info on the hero association in Konoha, I didn’t think they’d be  _ this  _ big a pain in the ass!” 

Temari huffed from her spot on the floor, busy bandaging the bleeding cuts on her arms. “Well, at least I get why he wanted Gaara to come along. I doubt we would have made it out without him.” 

“Still, how were those clowns almost as good as us?! As Gaara!” 

Temari paused. “I.. Look, we’ll just have to go to plan B then, we were going to do some undercover work anyway. The only difference is that now instead of it being the occasional thing, it will be our main focus.” 

Kankuro whined. “But undercover work  _ blows _ , please tell me we aren’t using aliases this time.”

Temari spared her breath, letting her silence answer his question. 

“Tem noooo! At least tell me I get a cool name!” 

This too, was met with silence.

“Oh come  _ on _ !” 

  
  


Gaara stood near the doorway with his arms crossed, choosing to stay out of it. He could care less about his siblings’ bickering and gripes. 

But even so, he was willing to admit he shared Kanuro’s sentiments. To say Gaara had a lack of social skills was a gross understatement and an insult to people lacking in social skills.

So it was obvious why Gaara was exempt from missions requiring heavy espionage. Gaara was a weapon, not a spy. And this wasn’t about to change anytime soon, which meant he was about to spend a lot of time doing absolutely  _ nothing _ . 

He could already feel the cold claws of boredom crawling up his spine. 

Even so, his Temari still called him over to go over their new identities. 

Gaara wasn’t going to actually make contact with the enemy, but it was always good to have your bases covered. 

Temari put a few stacks of paper in front of them on the coffee table. “Read these over, they are the covers created for the purpose of this mission. And just as a reminder on the off chance you weren’t paying attention during the briefing-” She shot a look towards Kankuro, who at least  _ tried _ not to look guilty. “Our mission is to collect as much information on the abilities and inner workings of the Konoha Hero Association, or K.H.A, as possible. Since their strength is more than we initially anticipated, and to draw less attention to ourselves, the plan is to use our fake identities and personas to get close to the heroes in the K.H.A. and gather info that way.”

She looked to her brothers, gaze searching. “Any questions?” 

Kankuro raised his hand dramatically. “Uh yeah, why the fuck is my name ‘Tanaka Eiji’? That’s the most uninspired name I’ve ever heard!” He made grand gestures with his hands and he spoke. “Where’s the flair? The pizzazz? That exotic spice?” 

Temari sighed. “That’s the  _ point _ Kankuro, we don’t want to stand out! And it’s not like mine or Gaara’s are any better.” 

As his siblings continued to bicker, Gaara read over his own file, even if it was pointless for him to do so. 

_ ‘Tanaka Hirohito: _

_ Younger brother to Naoko and Eiji, Hirohito is introverted and a loner. He prefers to spend his time indoors, and makes few public appearances.’ _

It would appear that whoever was tasked with creating these aliases was well aware of how unlikely Gaara was to actually need to use it, and didn’t feel like putting much effort into something that wouldn’t be used. 

The rest of the sheet(yes, singular) held the basics, age, date and place of birth, etcetera. 

Overall, Gaara found little of interest in the thin sheet of paper, and placed it back on the coffee table before leaving without a word. 

His siblings didn’t wish him goodnight. They said nothing at all.

\--- 

  
  


They had been in Konoha for just over a week, and Gaara already hated it here. Although a more accurate description was that he hated it in the apartment, since he had hardly left after the failed robbery their second day here. 

Each day since then, Kankuro and Temari had left anywhere from 7 am to noon, and came back around 6. And Gaara, at the pleading of his siblings, stayed put. 

After their return, they would all eat dinner, with Gaara only picking at his meal while his siblings discussed the information they had gathered that day. 

Unsurprisingly, there was only minimal progress. 

Temari had picked a man named Shikamaru as her mark, the man was apparently a well-known hero in Konoha, and was rumored to have close relations to the heads of K.H.A. 

From what Temari said, Shikamaru was an intelligent, but highly unmotivated individual. But she also said that ‘Naoko’ and him had become good acquaintances, and were well on their way to something more. 

Kankuro, on the other hand, had chosen a guy named Kiba, a hero who apparently was joined at the hip with his dog Akamaru. Why he chose Kiba, Kankuro never did say. But from the look on her face as he described Kiba that first day and others since, Gaara suspected Temari had a decent idea. 

But Gaara could care less about his siblings and their new ‘friends’. 

After being cooped up in the same tiny, dark, and stale apartment for the past week, he was restless. And a restless Gaara was a dangerous Gaara. 

And today, the ninth day of their stay in Konoha, he had had enough. 

It didn’t matter how much he hated crowds or loud noises or people,  __ he was getting out of this apartment  _ goddammit _ ! 

At 10:34 am Gaara made up his mind and got ready to experience ‘the great outdoors’.

Clothing was simple enough, he just threw on a maroon hoodie and black jeans and called it good enough. 

The trickier bit was going to be his sand. 

Gaara had been born with the ability to create sand from his own energy, and once that special sand touched normal sand that too became his. The downside to this was that the sand had a mind of its own, and that mind didn’t tolerate being too far from it’s master. And so Gaara had taken to carrying it in a distinctive gourd. 

The problem with this was that his usual means of transporting the sand was far too recognizable, and the last thing he needed was to blow his cover. So the giant gourd was out. 

But he hadn’t thought ahead while packing, and didn’t bother to bring something else to put some sand in. He supposed he could get away with stuffing some in his pockets, but that wasn’t an ideal solution. 

So instead, Gaara ventured to the room that his older brother had claimed as his own.

Where Gaara had underpacked, the opposite was true of Kankuro. 

How one person had made such a mess in a week when they weren’t home most of the time anyway was a mystery to him. Then again, most things people did Gaara didn’t understand, so this could just be another human trait he lacked. 

Still, it wasn’t all that difficult to find what he was after. On the floor of a small closet sat a couple of bags, and Gaara picked one at random. 

He ended up with a medium sized blue backpack with two pockets. 

As a test, he summoned some of his sand, and was surprised at the amount he could shove into the main pocket without it looking overstuffed. 

Maybe he should consider getting a backpack of his own in the future. 

But until then he would be fine borrowing his brother’s bag. 

With the amount he brought with him, surely it wouldn’t be missed.

\---

Konoha, Gaara discovered, was nothing like Suna.

The two were complete opposites, from the sheer amount of greenery and  _ life _ , to the birds singing in the cool breeze, and it was the middle of the day yet the air was  _ cold _ . 

But the worst thing? The most jarring difference? 

Strangers, men and women, to the old and feeble or the young and spry, people whose names he did not know, and who did not know his - _ greeted _ him! Gaara of the Desert! In Suna he was lucky if he was ignored, and most sent curses his way, not pleasantries! 

It unsettled him deeply. 

So much so, that one could forgive him for not being as aware of his surroundings as usual. 

“Excuse me! Sorry! Pardon me!” 

Gaara turned his head towards the commotion, just in time for said commotion to barrel into him, knocking them both over. 

It was a struggle to keep the sand in check, and a part of him  _ really  _ wanted to see what would happen if he let it do as it pleased. But part of the mission was to not blow their cover, so he kept it constrained to the backpack. 

“Oh, I am so terribly sorry!” Gaara blinked, then turned to see who was actually  _ apologizing _ to him, and found himself even more surprised than before. 

Standing above him, holding out his hand and sporting an apologetic smile, was none other than the bowl cut hero himself, Rock Lee. 

Caught off guard, and finding himself suddenly thrust into a situation he was  _ not  _ equipped to handle, Gaara took his hand almost without thinking. 

He could feel the sand vibrating at his back, equally as thrilled as it’s master. 

Seemingly oblivious to his discomfort, Rock Lee rambled on. “-So you see, because of this I was unable to properly see where I was going, not that that is a suitable excuse! As a licenced hero, I should strive each day to be a shining example of good citizenship! So I shall henceforth try my hardest to make this inconvenience up to you!” 

Was everyone in this city friendly to complete strangers? 

Sure, Rock Lee had no way of knowing Gaara was the villain he fought over a week ago, but still. In Suna, when two people met like this, there was usually a simple rehearsed apology before both parties continued on with their day, Gaara had never seen them this heartfelt before. 

With a start, Gaara was snapped out of his thoughts by a bandaged hand thrust in his direction. 

Gaara stared at it like he had never seen a hand before in his life. 

“Forgive me again! For I have just realized I have yet to introduce myself! My name is Rock Lee! But please, just call me Lee!” Rock Lee, or just Lee, Gaara supposed, still held his hand out to breach the space between them, and seemed to be waiting for something. 

Panicking, Gaara desperately racked his brain for human interactions he had observed. 

What was the correct response? He gave his name, so does he expect one in return? That had to be it, even Gaara knew that introductions were generally mutual. 

He was so relieved to have figured out the solution, that Gaara immediately gave his name. 

It was only after he did that he realized he neglected to use the fake name he had been given for a situation just like this. Luckily, he had only given his first name. 

Aside from his mistake however, it appeared that Gaara did indeed choose the correct response. 

Lee gave him a radiant smile and pointed his thumb towards the sky. “Gaara! Truly a beautiful name! It is a pleasure to meet you, even if the circumstances are less than ideal!” 

Again, he seemed to be waiting for some sort of response from him.

“..It is… Nice to meet you too.” That was the exact opposite of how Gaara felt, but again, that seemed to be the right answer, because Lee’s smile grew and grew. 

“I am glad! But unfortunately, Gaara-san, I must be on my way, even more so now that I have to go back and reorder the food again. But I would still like to make this up to you, if you would like. Would it not be too forward of me to ask for your phone number so that we would arrange something?” 

How did this man have so many words to speak, Gaara wondered, even Kankuro seemed curt compared to Lee. 

Still, Lee expected a response, so Gaara did what he thought was a normal reply.

“..Alright.” Brief surprise flashed across Lee’s face, but Gaara didn’t notice. All he saw was that smile, which grew and grew and grew. 

Lee pulled his phone from the pocket of his jade-green tracksuit, unlocking it before handing it to a stiff Gaara. 

Gaara hesitated a moment, unused to the smartphone in his hands. His only experience with them was from Temari and Kankuro, who both owned one. But personally? Gaara used a simple flip-phone, not seeing a point in upgrading. 

But he was a quick learner, and it didn’t hurt that Lee had gotten him to where he needed to be, so Gaara only had to type in his number. 

As soon as he was done, he handed back the device, feeling anxious holding something belonging to another. 

Again, though it seemed impossible, that smile grew again. Gaara was starting to think that maybe  _ that _ was his superpower, because he had never seen someone smile so much.

“Perfect! I shall text you later, so we shall talk then!” Lee started off, heading back the way he came. Then he slowed, and sent a wave and smile back to Gaara, who was still standing stock still like a deer in headlights. “Have a wonderful rest of your day Gaara-san!”

  
  


After several beats, Gaara blinked, turned around, and walked home. 

\---

  
  


Tonight's meal was ramen, apparently recommended to Kankuro by Kiba. Gaara ate more than usual, but if his siblings noticed they didn’t comment. 

They were currently discussing their days, and Temari was just wrapping up her “ _ thrilling _ afternoon spent cloud watching with that slouch.” And his siblings seemed ready to head to bed, expecting storytime to be over. 

Sensing his sister was done, Gaara started to share his riveting encounter of the day.

“I made contact with an enemy today, it was the hero from the bank, the one with leg warmers and the bowl cut. He bumped into me and we introduced ourselves. I also gave him my phone number, and we have plans to make further contact this Tuesday at three.”

  
  
  


You could have fit three whales in the silence that followed those words. 

  
  


Temari was the first to recover her wits. “What do you mean, you made contact with the enemy?”

Gaara’s brows furrowed, not understanding the question, he explained what had happened with as much detail as necessary. “I was bored, so I went out. Rock Lee bumped into me, and apologized. He asked for a way to contact me, so I gave him my phone number. We parted ways. I was carrying out our mission.” 

Kankuro was still blubbering like a fish, leaving Temari to handle this mess. Hopefully this wasn’t going to be an issue. “So that’s it? Nothing else happened, anything that might make him suspect you?” 

Gaara went over the encounter for what was perhaps the thousandth time today. There was almost nothing that came to mind. 

Almost. 

“He knows my name.” 

His sister raised a brow, so he tried again. “I introduced myself as Gaara. Not Tanaka Hirohito.

This piece of information, apparently did not please his sister, Kankuro was still doing an incredibly accurate impression of a fish. 

“Well.” Temari started, then stopped, then finally seemed to find the right words. “There’s nothing we can do about it now. The best things we can do is to make the most of this.” She looked Gaara in the eyes, but he couldn’t identify the emotion within them. “I want you to try to get as close as you can to Rock Lee, and through him get information about the K.H.A.” 

That said, his sister stood up and went to bed, and Gaara swore he heard what sounded like a muffled scream through her closed door. 

That, oddly enough, was what broke Kankuro out of his trance, and he too stood up. 

“Well kid.” He said as he stretched. “That’s enough excitement for one night, I think imma hit the hay too.” He gave his younger brother one last nod before he was gone. 

Gaara had just started putting away the food when he heard a sound from his brother’s room.

  
  


“Why the hell is there  _ sand _ in  _ my  _ bag?! Gaara!! What the fuck!?”

**Author's Note:**

> Woo nilly.. Over already! 
> 
> I hope to have the next chapter up soon (no promises I'm lazy okay) so look forward to that!   
> It would also mean a lot to me if I could get some feedback on how it's looking so far so I can try to improve for future chapters! Even if its just I liked this moment or felt that part was a bit ooc -anything helps! 
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading and have a wonderful day/night!


End file.
